


And I Do Appreciate You Being 'Round

by thankyouforexisting (orphan_account)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Derek is a Softie, Fluff, Gen, Laura is Awesome at being drunk, M/M, Matchmaker!Laura, lonely!Stiles, oblivious!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:32:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4670201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thankyouforexisting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is A Failure, and Derek is there to witness it. In which Laura is drunk, Lydia stages interventions, and the boys are smitten.// "Had Derek heard all the sweet nothing he’d been whispering to the fucking printer?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Do Appreciate You Being 'Round

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! My first fanfic for the Teen Wolf fandom. I've been reading so MUCH sterek since I became absolute trash for this, and it was time I wrote something. I hope I improve bc i am pants. Love y'all. Title obviously from "Help" by The Beatles

_Help, I need somebody_  
 _Help, not just anybody_  
 _Help, you know I need someone_  
 _Help!_  
  
-"Help", The Beatles

* * *

 

This was the worst day of Stiles’s life.

It could be argued that maybe, just maybe, that had been the day that Scott got bitten by a rabid werewolf, back in the old days where werewolves were just something in movies and comics.  Or the day when Scott had practically abandoned him in the rain without anything to protect his expensive textbooks because Allison got lost in town, and he’d lost at least four hundred dollar’s worth of books.

But nope. Today took the cake.

_The fucking printer was broken_.

“No, please!” he whined, caressing its surface gently, softly, “I’ll do anything, baby, please. I’ll be a good boy and I’ll print my essays earlier, not just the night before. I’ll even eat all my vegetables.”

The printer didn’t answer. That fucker.

His paper was inside his memory stick. It was all nice and finished. He’d researched it for about three weeks, gone to the library a few towns over,  called a friend of his dad’s, he’d even baked cookies for Lydia so she’d share her knowledge on the subject, he’d written it all up and then had made the only English student who’d talk to him, Jenny,  look it over and change his phrasing from time to time.

He _knew_ it was amazing, and that it was going to blow Professor Grant away, and he’d love Stiles forever and everything would be beautiful and birds would sing and shit. Except Professor Grant was also sixty and thought computers were the devil, so he couldn’t send it to him, and literally no one at Stanford liked Stiles enough to print it for him.

Stiles whimpered and pushed all the buttons he could think of, muttering, “Come on, come on, come on…”

No change.

“Printer, you know I love you, right? Please, I’ll make it up to you baby, everything will be great again…”

He deflated, his cheer at having finished everything getting away faster than a mom running away from the school after having gotten free for a day more, and turned around, determined to drive to Dad’s and print the damn thing. Even if it meant a four hour drive.

Derek Hale was behind him, way too close.

Derek Hale had been the focus of Stiles’s fantasies since he’d come back to Beacon Hills a bit less than two years ago and his sister had introduced herself, as was (apparently) good werewolf etiquette. He was hot, older, had stubble, and drove a wet dream of a car which was black and sexy and a fucking _Camaro_. His eyes were an inexplicable color, in between blue and green and brown and gold, always changing when the lighting did. His jawline could cut glass, Stiles was pretty sure, he wore _leather jackets_ , and it didn’t help that he was basically a wall of pure muscle and had a tendency to take his shirt off at the slightest provocation.

If that wasn’t damning enough, Derek was a _nice guy_. He helped out at the local animal shelter and helped old ladies cross traffic. He rescued kittens from trees and Stiles knew for a fact that he volunteered at some hotlines. He was _adorably perfect_.

But what was he doing in Stanford?

Stiles definitely did not squeak when he said, “Hey! Um, do you need the printer? B-Because it’s not really working properly…”

“I gathered,” Derek cut in, voice giving nothing away.

“Yeah…” Stiles looked at anywhere but Derek, feeling mortified. Had Derek heard all the sweet nothing he’d been whispering to the _fucking printer_?

Derek said something under his breath, but Stiles didn’t quite catch it. Probably ‘weird college kid’ or something like that.

“I’m just gonna go…now,” he managed to choke out, his cheeks completely red, and tried to run away, but the object of his very sexual, very pleasurable fantasies blocked the way.

“I have a printer,” Derek said very quickly.

“Oh.”

“In La- my sister’s room. She’s in a big dorm.”

“What? Laura’s studying here?” Stiles’s heart threatened to burst. Laura was cool and savy and funny. She could _totally_ help out with his no-friends problem.

Derek looked uncomfortable like he didn’t quite like that Stiles was on first name basis with his older sis, even though she’d practically done everything to make Scott and Stiles feel safe in Beacon Hills, “Yeah. Do you –I mean, if you don’t –Do you want to print that out?”

Stiles looked at the memory stick, then at Derek, who looked mortified that he’d stumbled so much, and nodded desperately, “Yes, please.”

And that was how he found himself printing a paper on the history of racism in the US in Laura Hale’s room, with her incredibly hot and amazing brother.

“Thanks,” Stiles said when it was done, jealously guarding his paper. Oh god, thank the universe for Derek Hale’s ~~hotness~~ printer, or he’d have died because of Professor Grant’s ‘no technology rule’.

“You’re welcome,” Derek grumbled back, “Um, Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you –Are you-I know college is busy but could you –?”

“Oh, shit!” Stiles realized, horrified, “I need to do Jenny’s laundry as a favour! Bye, thanks again!”

He fled.

…

Unfortunately, it happened again.

Jenny had invited Stiles to a party, because, as she put it, “You are hugest fucking nerd on this fucking planet and you need to chill the fuck out, yeah?” (Stiles wondered how Jenny had ever gotten into English), and he’d come, kind of expecting to meet some new people, maybe hang out with someone who wasn’t Jenny or Lydia, maybe even get off with a cute girl or guy who was in the mood for nerdy, lanky and annoying.

Instead, he bumped into Richard, his _ex_ , making out with someone in a dark corner, while  trying to find the toilet.

He tried to make a stealthy retreat, dying of mortification, when he knocked over a glass and gave himself away.

Stiles made eye contact with Richard, who was looking very Not Amused, shrieked, and ran away. He was _really_ good at running away.

Outside, a few cars were parked, picking up obviously drunk college students. A girl was slaughtering “Party in the USA” with a terrible, high-pitched voice which almost made Stiles wince in sympathy, and at least five guys trying to walk and falling over, knocking down the whole group every single time.

“Stiles!” yelled an enthusiastic female voice, and he turned around to see…

Laura Hale and her ( _oh my fucking god_ ) brother.

“Hi,” he said weakly, grimacing, “How are things, Laura?”

The older Hale beamed at him in drunken joy, her eyes sparkling, a few hints of Alpha red seeping through her control, “Everything is better now that you’re here!”

“Come on, Laura,” Derek hissed, flushed, “You have a 9 am lecture tomorrow.”

“Life is _good_ , Der-bear!” Stiles choked at the nickname, “And Stiles! Stiles is _wonderful_! You think so!”

Derek looked like he was wishing the Earth would be ready to swallow him and he’d never have to show his face again.

“You do?” Stiles asked before he could stop himself.

Derek looked at his feet, “I, erm. You’re ok.”

“Oh,” Stiles deflated, “I guess you had a good time, huh? I didn’t know they sold wolfsbane-laced drinks here.”

“Derek made them _especially_ for me!” she leaned in conspiratorially, “He _really_ loves me. He really _loves_ y –!”

“ _Laura_!” Derek hissed, putting a hand over her mouth, and then he yelped, “You bit me!”

“We _need_ to hang out, Stiles! You’re a great influence! You’re smart! Isn’t he smart, Der-bear? You think Stiles is smart, you _told_ me!”

Derek looked ready to die, “Let’s _go_.”

“But _Stiles_ is here,” Laura whined, “Stiles, how are you getting home? Do you need a ride?”

“Um,” Jenny was his ride, actually, but damn him if he was going to pass up an opportunity to ride in the _fucking Camaro of sex_. And Derek apparently thought he was smart. Stupidly, that made something warm in his chest, “Yeah, actually.”

Laura looked like nothing could’ve made her happier, “We _have_ to drive Stiles, Derek. We _love_ Stiles.”

Apparently, they loved Stiles too.

Derek looked up like he was looking for strength, his cheeks still slightly red and muttered, “Yeah, sure.”

But he looked at Stiles and licked his lips before turning away and grabbing his sister’s wrist, pulling her behind him.

Derek pushed Laura into the back seat, ignored her giggling, and, like he was from two centuries ago or something, _opened Stiles’s door_ and waited for him to get into his seat before _putting his seat belt on for Stiles_ , which his dick appreciated while his brain screamed “NO! Don’t let Derek Hale touch your erection!”

Stiles felt everything in the Camaro like it was a wet dream. The car was pristine, in prime condition, and it fucking _gleamed._ He felt a little in love, dreamily looking at it. He  missed his Jeep, his baby.

Laura was still going on about how _wonderful_ Stiles was, and how _great_ he was at everything, which was a surprise, since Stiles had always suspected she found him a bit irritating, and she preferred hanging out with Scott anyway, but it made him smile shyly. It’d been a while since he’d Skyped Scott, and his self-esteem was struggling.

Stiles cleared his throat, looking ahead “So. Do you come to Stanford with Laura often?”

“I,er,” Derek looked embarrassed,  “I’m a student as well.”

“Oh! That’s great. Kind of a siblings experience then.”

“Yeah,” Derek didn’t look like he thought it was great, “You like the party?”

“Oh, god it was _horrible_ ,” Stiles took the small talk and ran with it, “I caught my ex making out and then I made an ass of myself. So I,” his cheeks colored, “I kind of wanted to leave _immediately_.”

Derek looked kind of angry, and he made a short gesture: _Go on_.

“So. What are you studying?” he asked while Laura announced Stiles was the Chosen One and was also fucking Draco Malfoy, which made him blush.

“Philosophy.”

“You’re a really good brother,” he blurted out suddenly, and then clasped a hand over his mouth in horror, “I mean –“

“Thanks,” for once in Stiles’s very short, very awkward life, Derek looked kind of pleased, “Believe it or not, being Laura’s brother is a trying position. How’s Scott?”

“Oh, he’s over there at Beacon Hills community college, the vet program. We Skype as often as we can and all, but I, um, I’m not really that popular here.”

Derek frowned, “Why?” like it was actually a valid question.

Laura proudly declared that, if she wasn’t a ‘dedicated lesbian’, she’d marry Stiles in a heartbeat. Derek’s eye twitched, and Stiles blushed for like, the fortieth time.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, like, erm, I don’t mean you notice me or even pay more than the bare minimum of attention to me, I’m sure I don’t factor in your life at all, I’m like, an acquaintance at best –“

“I pay attention to you,” Derek interrupted, and Stiles felt warmth all inside him.

“You do?” He felt ecstatic, his heart soaring.

“Yes,” Derek looked kind of awkward, “You’re Stiles. Of course I pay attention to you.”

Stiles was sure his eyes couldn’t get any wider. He couldn’t breathe, anyway, “Well, then you’ve probably guessed that I’m not a person people generally like. I’m more of a computers in the dark kind of guy. So yeah, I’m missing Scott.”

“Ah.”

“Also, I’m kind of starving? Yeah, it isn’t supposed to be a big deal, but I had to pay for the printer because they thought I’d broken it, which I _hadn’t_ , and I’m out of money and I’m now surviving on the cookies my roommate doesn’t want. Oh my god, I sound _so_ pathe –“

“We’re here.”

Sure enough, that was Stiles’s building.

“Oh. Thanks so much for the ride,” he said sincerely, but also not really wanting to leave the sexiest car ever built. “I’m, uh, I’m really sorry for talking your face off.”

 “It was fine,” Derek said, clearing his throat, “I liked talking to you.”

“ _You_ are fine!” added Laura cheerfully from the backseat, giggling some more.

He got out, shedding tears in his mind at leaving the Camaro, and smiled once more at Derek before walking up to the door, digging his keys out of his pocket.

It didn’t occur to him until he was in bed that he’d never actually told Derek which building was his.

…

The next day, when Stiles was looking miserably at the only thing he could afford for breakfast (an apple), Derek sat in front of him, with two trays full of delicious, fried breakfast food.

“Hey!” he said, startled, trying not to drool as he saw his V-neck.

“This is for you,” Derek pushed one of the trays in his direction.

“What? No, I can’t really…” Derek raised his eyebrows, which were so expressive they could probably convey 67 emotions, and Stiles gave in, “ _Thank you_.”

He finished his food in record time, groaning when he tasted bacon and muttering a prayer to the gods of scrambled eggs. After a while, he realized he was kind of ignoring Derek, and looked up, embarrassed.

Derek looked flushed, eating his own food much more slowly, in a probably healthier way.

“I now declare you officially the best human being today,” Stiles announced, grinning, “You just won an award, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek said automatically, but he looked amused, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, you should feel pretty grateful, _buddy_ , Stilinskis don’t give that to just anybody, you know. Anyway, what possessed you to feed this poor student?”

Derek blushed, which made him a hundred times more adorable, “You sounded hungry last night in the car.”

Stiles felt pleased that he’d even listened to anything that came out of his mouth. Even Scott had trouble keeping up with him, sometimes. “Well, I’m forever in your debt. Hey, when do you have class?”

“Twelve. I told Laura to get it at the same time after a party, but she loves masochism,” he sounded like he put up with her all the time, “Why?”

“Do you –“ _you can do this, Stiles_ , “Do you want to have a coffee near here? Jenny knows I’m poor and she pays for a cup in exchange for making me do her laundry.”

Derek looked into Stiles’s eyes, “I’d love to.”

He paid for the coffee, even though Stiles insisted he didn’t, and Jenny smirked knowingly.

…

From that day on, they had a pretty good routine.

Derek brought him breakfast every day, even after Stiles had the money to afford it. They talked, Stiles ranted about something his Professors had told him, and Derek complained about Laura and recommended him books with titles like “The Miracle of Human Conscience”. Sometimes, Laura even joined them, cheerful and outgoing, teasing Derek all the time and winking at Stiles.

Afterwards, Derek bought coffee, and they sat on the benches outside the Psychology building so Stiles could get to class on time.

Stiles spent a huge amount of time trying not to blush and stammer like a thirteen year old, and then felt guilty when he jerked off to thoughts of Derek in the shower, because Derek wasn’t an adorable, hot werewolf who he saw in town. Derek liked coffee black and he loved discussing the secrets of the universe and listened to Stiles babbling and laughed every once in a while, his whole face lighting up, making him look gorgeous and young and beautiful. Derek wasn’t a guy who volunteered at some hotlines; no, he talked about horrible experiences and how he wished nobody in the world had to suffer. He was closed off sometimes, and he brooded more than the average person, but he was always kind and he looked at Stiles with all his attention.

Stiles was (maybe) getting a bit attached. And sometimes, when Derek lowered his eyelashes and when his fingers brushed Stiles’s while handing him his coffee cup, he thought Derek liked him too.

So it didn’t surprise him when Lydia staged an intervention.

“You’ve been hanging out with Derek Hale and I want to know why,” she announced as she sat down on his bed, completely ignoring Stiles’s indignant, “You didn’t even knock!”

“I do whatever I want, Stiles, you should know that,” she tutted, patting his head and messing up his hair, “Now tell me everything.”

“Why? Can’t I hang out with him?”

“Not when you used to call him ‘Hottie Hale’ and once told me he was ‘the most fuckable guy in the planet’. Are you two _dating_?”

“What?” Stiles spluttered, blushing furiously, “No! Of course not! No _way_ a guy like Derek would even _look_ at me, Lydia. He’s great, and we’re friends.”

She didn’t look convinced, “How precious. I’m talking to Laura, just so you know.”

“Lydia –!” she was already gone.

…

And then Ryan sexiled him after his girlfriend came to visit.

(“She’s so hot, man, she’s smoking, and she lives five hours away and she’s into _bondage_ , Steve.”

“My name’s Stiles.”

“Whatever, just get the fuck out and don’t come back until tomorrow.”)

 So he found himself texting Derek, the only guy he knew who had no roommate.

> **hey derek**

**> remember how great i am**

**> can I crash at yrs? sexiled**

**Bring an overnight bag. <**

He grinned, and then realized that he was possibly a bit gone for Derek, and liked to whimper his name when he came and was _probably_ not going to last a night in _Derek’s room_.

…

Derek opened the door to his room and let him come in.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he smiled sheepishly, “Roomate’s girlfriend made an unexpected visit. You’re the best. Seriously, I would’ve had to sleep with Jenny, and she likes to watch gay porn before she goes to sleep. I love Jenny, I really do, but that is not something I’d like to do with her.”

Derek snorted, “Jenny is a female you who swears more. Don’t even try to criticize her.”

“She is _not_!” he dumped the overnight bag on the spare bed, and flopped down, glaring, “I am _nothing_ like Jenny. I am _cool_.”

“Sure,” Derek’s eyes went to this ‘Talk Nerdy To Me’ t-shirt significantly, and he crossed his arms, embarrassed.

“Don’t judge a man by his t-shirt, Derek,” he said seriously, and the werewolf snorted.

“Whatever you say, Stiles. Whatever you say.”

They both stared at each other for a moment, and it’d never been this awkward before, even when Stiles was babbling and when Derek didn’t get it and kept looking at him like Stiles was deranged, lips curling in a smirk.

Stiles eyes went to Derek’s mouth out of their own accord. His lips were certainly kissable, he thought with something like giddiness. They looked soft and smooth and he imagined them swollen and red and…

Derek cleared his throat, and he startled.

“We should probably change,” Derek suggested, looking out of breath. He licked his lips.

“Yeah, sure.”

Neither of them moved.

The air seemed to be charged with tension, with the knowledge that they’d never been together in a room before in private. Laura always seemed to be fluttering in the distance, or they were in the library, or the cafeteria, or somewhere with people around them, chatting and complaining and shooting glances at their surroundings.

Now, more than anything, Stiles wanted.

He wanted to have Derek as his cute boyfriend and he wanted Derek to kiss him on the forehead and he wanted Lydia to be jealous that _he_ ’d banged such an awesome guy. He wanted to play video games and grin at each other stupidly.

Holy _shit_. He was, maybe, a little in love with Derek.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Derek interrupted his thoughts, his voice low and filled with longing.

Stiles nodded wordlessly, making a move to stand up from the bed, and Derek cupped his face with his hands and looked at him in the eyes for what felt like forever before leaning in and

_Bliss_.

…

“Scott, Derek is my boyfriend.”

His best friend’s eyes widened in horror, “ _No_. Please no. Please forgive me –“

“I am now cashing in those _three months_ I endured while you went on and on and on about Allison’s hair so. Get ready to hear about gay sex.”

Derek chuckled from where he was doing some kind of reading and looked up to see Scott whining on Skype, “Don’t listen to him, Scott. We’re taking it slow.”

“Which is something I don’t understand, because obviously I want your dick like, _mad_ –“

“My sister is with us all the time!”

“You have creepy co-dependence!”

“Have you literally been in a room with you and Scott.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated :)


End file.
